


Under The Same Stars

by notsomagicath



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Canon Compliant, Canon-typical language, Childhood Friends, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier Bantering, Eddie Kaspbrak Lives, Fix-It, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Mentioned Sonia Kaspbrak, Mutual Pining, POV Richie Tozier, Pining, Post-Canon, Post-IT (2017), Post-IT Chapter Two (2019), Pre-Canon, Pre-IT Chapter Two (2019), Richie Tozier is a Mess, Richie Tozier's Trashmouth, Sneaking Out, Sonia Kaspbrak's A+ Parenting, Stargazing, Teen Romance, Teenage Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier, Teenage Rebellion, Teenagers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-08 21:26:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27103426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notsomagicath/pseuds/notsomagicath
Summary: Richie Tozier has never understood the appeal of the stars. It’s empty space out there, with no air, no sound, and no warmth. It’s much more interesting on the ground. But somehow, laying in a truck bed with Eddie Kaspbrak makes the sky worth watching.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 11





	Under The Same Stars

Richie shifts in place, wrinkling the sheets at the end of Eddie’s twin-size bed. 

“Eds, I’m bored. Let’s go out.” 

“And have my mom come and catch us halfway out the window? Not a chance.” 

“Oh come on, she sleeps like the dead,” Richie coaxes him, uncrossing his legs and scooting until his feet hang over the edge of the mattress. “The lovely Mrs. K won’t even notice you’re gone. If I can sneak in here, we can sneak out no problem.” 

“If you would just stop calling my mother by terms of endearment, you may have been able to convince me-” Eddie rolls his eyes. “-but unfortunately you just ruined your chances.” 

“Pleeeeease,” Richie whines, prodding the back of Eddie’s comic book. “C’mon, Spaghetti, live a little.” 

“Uh huh, you’ve said that before, and you remember what happened?”

“That was  _ three years ago, _ Eds, we were fourteen. I’m much better at sneaking around now.” 

“Sureee, the three broken branches I’ve had to explain to my mom say otherwise.” 

“Oh  _ I’m  _ sorry I’ve actually gained weight since I was eleven.” 

“Shut  _ up _ , Richie, I’ll have you know I’m perfectly average sized.” 

“Uh huh, for a middle schooler.” 

“Oh my  _ god _ , see if I ever sneak out with you again.” 

“You wouldn’t, you love me too much.” 

“Shut the fuck up Richie and let me read.” 

Richie nods and slowly reclines over Eddie’s lap, continuing to poke at the pages. For maybe ten seconds, they sit in silence, Eddie attempting to read without acknowledging Richie’s existence, and Richie trying to damage both the comic book and Eddie’s patience at the same time. (Given how flimsy the cover is and the tight set of Eddie’s jaw, it’s a close race as to who will break first.)

“OH MY GOD RICHIE I WILL FUCKING KICK YOUR ASS OUT OF MY HOUSE.”  _ There he is.  _ Eddie slaps a hand over his mouth and jumps out of bed, pressing an ear against the door. 

“I mean-” Richie grins, even as Eddie throws his other hand up to cover Richie’s mouth, only to recoil when Richie licks it. “-All I’m saying is if you kicked me out, I could always just drag you out with me.” 

“You wouldn’t-”

“It’s not like you’d be able to yell, your mom would wake up and we’d both get in trouble. Oh wait, you just did.”

“Beep beep, Richie.” 

“Eddie?” the sleepy voice of Sonia Kaspbrak sounds from down the hall. 

“ _ Shitshitshitshitshit, _ ” Eddie hisses under his breath, pushing Richie towards his closet. 

“ _ There’s no time, let’s go _ .”

“ _ I hate you so fucking much, Rich, I hope you know that. _ ” 

And with that, Eddie runs for his bedroom window, pulling Richie after him as they scramble down the tree right next to the roof ledge. With the sounds of Mrs. Kaspbrak’s angry screams echoing behind them, heading straight for Richie’s dad’s truck, parked just down the street. (When they have to pass the house again on the way out of the dead end, Richie waves frantically just as Mrs. Kaspbrak appears on the lawn, safety be damned. He even laughs out loud when Eddie hisses at him to keep both hands on the wheel.)

The thing is, Eddie isn’t just mad at Richie, he’s absolutely  _ livid _ . He hasn’t smiled once since they jumped into the car and Richie stepped on the gas. He hasn’t said a single word, even when Richie ran the stop sign at the end of Eddie’s street and sped through an intersection well above the speed limit. He won’t even  _ look _ at him. 

“Eds?” Richie starts. 

Nothing. Eddie only stares out the car window as if the street lamps are the most interesting in the world.  _ Congrats, Trashmouth, you really fucked up this time.  _

“Eddie, I’m sorry, okay? We can turn around right now and I’ll take the blame for everything.” 

“Shut up, just shut up Richie.” 

Richie goes to turn around, but before he can make the U-turn, Eddie throws an arm over his and jerks the steering wheel back.

“It’ll be no use going back now, might as well do something before I’m grounded for the rest of my life,” he says in explanation, and it’s something close to a miracle. 

“Yeah okay,” Richie says, and he definitely  _ doesn’t  _ fixate on the fact that Eddie still hasn’t moved. Nevermind that he’s a human furnace, warm even through his sweatshirt sleeve, and that his fine-boned hands are still draped over the steering wheel, fingers flexing slightly whenever Richie speeds up or takes a turn a little too fast. 

He’s relieved that his best friend isn’t mad at him. That’s it. He’s just glad that Eddie’s talking to him again. Plain and simple. 

_ Yeah, right.  _

“How ‘bout here?” Richie pulls into an empty parking lot, parking through three different spaces and glancing over at Eddie just in time to see his nose crinkle and eyes narrow in the way they do whenever Richie does something stupid.  _ Cute cute cute.  _

“Sure.” 

The two of them hop out of the car, circling around to the back and climbing into the truck bed. 

“Ugh,” Eddie frowns when Richie promptly plops down on his back. “Do you know how many germs can collect on the outside of a car? You don’t know how many animals have crawled in here, or how many-”

The rest of the sentence is cut off by an indignant squawk as Richie throws an arm over his shoulders and tugs him down until they are both staring up at the sky, Eddie still grumbling about bacteria and other potential ways to die from exposure to a truck bed alone. Eventually, though, he runs out of steam and seems content to sit in silence. 

There’s not a lot of light in Derry, so the stars are clear and the closest thing to daylight is a dying street lamp at the corner. Even so, Richie squints exaggeratedly up at the sky, and Eddie stares at nothing in particular, fidgeting every couple seconds and picking a dry leaf off the hem of his t-shirt. 

_ Stop looking at him. Just stop it.  _ Richie thinks to himself, jerking his head forward from where it drifted to Eddie’s face.  _ You almost fucked this up already, leave well enough alone. Quit while you’re ahead.  _

“You know, I studied maps of the stars a while ago, back when I was grounded when I tossed my pills in the trash.” Eddie points almost straight up. “That’s the summer triangle. That super bright one is named Deneb, and it makes up the tail of the swan constellation, Cygnus.” 

“Damn, someone’s a nerd,” Richie teases, poking Eddie in the ribs with the hand that isn’t trapped on the other side of Eddie’s shoulders.  _ I LOVE YOU,  _ his brain shrieks, so loudly that Richie tenses in case he said it out loud. 

_ Shit. Shitshitshitshitshit.  _

“Oh shut up…” Eddie flushes slightly, barely visible pink ears in the dim light. “You good, Rich?”

“Yeah, why?” 

“I dunno, your shoulder kinda twitched. I thought a bug may have bitten you or something.” 

“Just the love bug, Eddie darling,” Richie leans over him, forearm still trapped under his neck. Eddie rolls his eyes when Richie tops it off with the world’s cheesiest smile. 

“ _ God _ , you’re the worst.”

“Now, dear, there’s no need for formalities, you can call me Richie.” Stupidly, Richie leans down closer, practically straddling Eddie, until he has to take off his glasses in order to keep them from slipping off and hitting Eddie in the face. 

Everything’s a little blurry, but it seems like Eddie short-circuits for a moment. 

“ _ Oh, _ ” he gasps, sounding short of breath. “You called yourself God.” 

“Nice one, Eds, always the smart one.”

“Oh fuck  _ off _ .” 

Eddie puts a hand on his chest as if to shove him away, but instead, his fingertips tense as if his fingerprints snagged on the fabric of Richie’s shirt. They’re practically sharing a breath at this point, and Richie’s arms are shaking a little with the effort of holding himself so close.  _ Curse his lack of athletic ability. You’d think after helping to kill a clown at age 12, he’d work on being buff as hell just in case, and yet, here he is, struggling to keep the weight of his head and torso steady for thirty seconds. Thirty seconds above Eddie fucking Kaspbrak, who’s laying under him with a hand on his chest like a fucking daydream. No no no let’s not even go there. No. No. Absolutely not.  _ Just like that, Richie lets his arms go, and falls dramatically, careful to keep from bumping heads with Eddie. (He neglects to remember that they’re on a truck bed, and the clang the mental makes against the side of his forehead is loud enough to startle a small squeak out of Eddie, followed immediately by a grunt as the wind is knocked out of his lungs by Richie’s weight.) 

“Ow,” Eddie whines once he regains his breath. “Get off me, you tree. You almost crushed my arm.” 

“Oh again?” Richie laughs, even as he rolls off quickly.  _ What the fuck was that?  _ He asks himself.  _ You’re in love with Eddie Kaspbrak,  _ his brain reminds him. _ I just told you, keep up.  _ “Fuck, I think I killed a couple brain cells with that hit.” 

“Then you’ll have none left,” Eddie replies automatically, but his face pinches with concern and he props himself up on a forearm to scan over Richie’s face, prodding at the rapidly forming bruise with one hand. 

“Ow, Eds, be gentle.” 

“I am, you big baby. You know, your skull is the thinnest at your temples, so if you get hit there you could get serious brain damage.” 

“C’mon Eds I’m fine,” Richie protests. “Seriously, there’s no need to go all Dr. K on me.” 

“Oh no you better not be bringing that back.” 

“Suck the wound, get in there!” Richie crows in quite possibly the world’s worst British accent. 

“You know what, I should just let you suffer whatever brain damage was inflicted, it’s what you deserve.” 

“You wound me, both literally and figuratively.” 

“Uh, no, that wound was self inflicted, idiot.” 

“I was lost in your eyes, darling, you can’t blame me.” 

“Oh shut up.”

For what Eddie would say is the first time in his life, Richie actually does. 

“Ursa Major,” Eddie says after a while, pointing up at the sky. “Ursa Minor. The North Star. Scorpius.” 

_ I love you, _ Richie thinks again. 

“Sagittarius. Leo. Cassiopeia.” 

If Richie reaches out and traces circles on Eddie’s wrist and arm, it’s no one’s business. Eddie lets him, and that’s enough. (Never mind that he hasn't realized that Richie can’t see shit without his glasses.) 

  
  



End file.
